athenagrey: (Draw Down the Moon)
She told me, in Her calm and matter-of-fact voice.
It's in your hands. Use them with compassion.

I know, I whispered back.

But I didn't really know until I had slept on Her words,
and seen the short film that went with them.
The woman I admired but had never met, in a coma
(Not to worry, this was a dream, for illustrative purposes only).
How I knew that by taking her hands, we could communicate.

Then, sweet time with my own mother.
Talking about the love between parent and child
that is the core of Life.
I could feel her, with my arm around her, as we sat and talked.

As a people, we have become frightened of touch,
seen it used as a weapon of dominance.
We need touch, healthy touch, compassionate hands.

Even without Reiki, there is power in our hands.

Today, as you go about the things you do,
Caress the fur of your animal companions,
Hug your family,
Shake hands with your colleagues,
Revel in the humanity of a crowded subway car.

Ignite the spark of compassion that lives in your heart.
athenagrey: (Tulip)
Enjoy a piece of lemon meringue pie today. It was my mother's favorite.

Even with a year to think about it, I find it difficult to write about her in a way that describes the sweet and creative person that she was. I end up making long lists, and I suppose that's indicative of something. She was good at so many things.

She was a costumer by trade, working first for a ballet school, and ultimately switching to Elizabethan/Shakespearean works when she opened her own studio. I have several gowns that she made, and really must photograph them to share with you. She taught me how to sew and I worked with her for several years and learned so much.

The garment district was her playground, and she loved going in and out of the cluttered little stores, looking for the perfect piece of fabric for the next costume, always buying at least ten yards of it, 'just in case.'

She always claimed she was shy, but in reality she shied away from conflict. Yet, she was a firm believer in the 'principle of the matter' and wouldn't back down. She was just firm and quiet about it. For a petite lady, she could be quite imposing. She had a soft voice and a British accent overlaid by the broad 'a' and soft 'r' from living in Massachusetts.

Well, that's something better than a list. I feel that I've been able to honor her memory by sharing these few words.
athenagrey: (Cherry Blossom)
When I had an extensive garden to take care of, I missed the glory and celebration of spring. I was too busy watering tender seedlings in the glasshouse, and too anxious for the wet earth to dry out, that I missed the absolute beauty of early spring.

Now that the Aerie's gardens are tended by gardeners, my role is to sit back, appreciate, and drink more tea.

The forsythia and daffodils are so exuberantly yellow. What an enthusiastic color.

The cherry blossoms are just opening, such a cheerful shade of pink peeking out of the buds that I want to purr with joy. No, what I really want to do is have a picnic under the trees when they are in full bloom, and let the gentle rain of petals garnish my food and decorate my hair.

This is the springtime that I have missed for so many years.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother's passing. She loved all the flowers of spring, especially the pink ones, and now they bloom again in her honor. Tomorrow I will wear pink, not black, as a tribute to her.

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athenagrey

June 2012

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